


Return to Sender Address Unknown

by Gedry



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 11:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12652683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gedry/pseuds/Gedry
Summary: Castiel falls; becoming human.  He’s taken in by Bobby and the Winchester brothers.  As his feelings change for Dean he discovers that the path to love isn’t always easy and that sometimes distance really does make the heart grow fonder.





	Return to Sender Address Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Reverse Big Bang in 2010. Lord, that was a long time ago.

He smashes his finger for what must be the hundredth time and finally loses his temper. Castiel throws the carburetor as far as he can before repeatedly kicking the beat up old motorcycle. Words, that as an angel he would never have dreamed of saying, rolling off his tongue with an ease, which tells him he’s been living at the Singer Salvage Yard with the Winchesters for far too long. 

But Castiel isn’t an angel; not anymore. 

“Maybe it’s time to take a break,” Dean teases, and Castiel glares at him just because his friend happened to be around to witness his meltdown. There’s a part of him that thinks he should still be above these things. “Bobby made lunch,” Dean continues, “let’s go.”

Castiel follows him back to the house. Dean’s making commentary on Castiel’s choice of vehicle to work on; calling the motorcycle a useless toy that’s no good for hunting. They’ve had this conversation before and Castiel just tunes him out. That and the way Dean’s worn jeans hug the shape of his ass is entirely too distracting. 

That’s another issue that’s come up as he’s adjusted to being human; he’s attracted to Dean. He thinks about Dean in a way that no one else ever crosses his mind. Castiel thinks he wants to touch him, maybe kiss him; put some kind of claim on him. But they don’t speak of it. He knows enough to know that Dean wouldn’t be comfortable with him bringing it up.

Feelings are so complicated. Castiel wonders how he missed them so much after his second rebirth. Being fully connected to heaven again had come with many gifts; but there had been one price too high for Castiel to pay. He had lost the hard won ability to feel that he had gained while losing his grace; and he found over time, that he wanted to feel, more than he wanted his wings. 

So he gave them up; he fell. He woke in a field not far from the salvage yard; his grace transformed into a sword the likes of which no one had ever seen before. Bobby had taken him in and called the Winchesters. The last several months had been filled with painful lessons for Castiel.

Being human isn’t easy and many of the lessons he had to learn were messy ones. Still, over time he’s learned most of his body’s limitations; he’s detailed down in writing everything he can remember that might be useful for hunters. He’s been taught how to shower, and dress, and load a weapon. Dean says he has the beginnings of a capable hunter. Castiel is glad for that because really, he’s a shit mechanic. He’s been working on the bike for a month now, and still has at least a week to go before he can even try and see if it runs. 

But it keeps him busy, and it keeps his mind off of how he wants to touch Dean. He makes a snort of suppressed laughter at himself, when he realizes that his thoughts have once again wandered toward his urges for the hunter. It’s getting harder to stay silent; to at least not try and show Dean that he’s wanted, that he’s loved. 

The fear of rejection is steadily shrinking in place of the frustration he feels with not being able to get over it or have his feelings returned. Castiel knows Dean cares for him; he believes that Dean could love him if he could get past all of Dean’s defenses. 

It must have been that thought process that makes Castiel reach out that evening, while the sun is setting and Dean is showing him how to reconnect the brakes on the bike. He slides his oil and grease stained fingers over the back of Dean’s hand making the hunter pause and mutter, “Cas?” 

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Castiel whispers; he’s not sure how one does this. His human training hasn’t included how to woo someone you love. “I feel things for you; about you that I need for you to understand.”

Dean slides his hand away, and stares at the ground while he shakes his head slowly saying, “You don’t mean that Cas. You’re just new to all this and it’s normal to be confused by everything. I’ve been nice to you, and you feel like you owe me something, but it’s not what you think it is.”

It’s then that he realizes that this secret he thinks he’s been hiding isn’t a secret at all. Dean knows Castiel wants him, has known, and hasn’t said anything. “I’m not confused about this. I want you. I want to kiss you, and touch you, and sleep in the same bed with you at night. I dream about you, and I wake up hard and aching for you, and I don’t do that about anyone else. I want more than friendship from you Dean.”

Dean groans and slides his hands over his face leaving a trail of grease that Castiel wants to reach up and smooth away. His friend looks so sad, and Castiel can’t understand why; love is something to be rejoiced. “Cas, look,” Dean mutters. “I can’t give you what you’re asking for from me. I just don’t feel the same way about you like you think you do for me. You need to get over this and stop thinking all this stupid shit. Nothing good is ever going to come from it.”

It stings more so than he thought it would, and Castiel slams down a wrench and storms toward the house in a blind rage. He doesn’t come out of his room that night, and Dean finally brings him dinner long after the other two occupants of the home have slipped off to sleep. 

“Cas, open the door?” Dean asks. “You need to eat; you’re too damn thin, and I wanted to talk to you about before.”

Castiel pulls the door open and asks, “What about before?” There’s hope in his chest flaring brightly. 

“I just wanted to make sure we were okay,” Dean shrugs; and it’s then, that Castiel understands that Dean really does think this is just a phase for him. It makes him clench his teeth against a sob.

Castiel reaches out quickly, invading Dean’s personal space like he’s done so many times before, and presses their mouths together in a desperate attempt at a first kiss. Dean drops the plate he’s carrying, and grabs at Castiel’s clinging arms; forcibly removing him and holding him away. “Does it feel like we’re okay Dean?” Castiel almost snarls in his frustration. 

Dean lets him go quickly, and seems to fold in on himself while he answers, “No. Don’t you ever do that again.”

Castiel watches him walk off down the hallway, before sliding his door shut and collapsing against it on the other side. 

He debates the idea that not having feelings might not have been entirely bad. 

The next morning Bobby hands him a cup of coffee and comments, “Dean worked on that bike all night last night. Said he got it up and running for you, before him and Sam left out for a hunt this morning. Told me to tell you they wouldn’t be back for a week.” 

Castiel nods dumbly and wanders out to look at the motorcycle Dean had spent the night fixing. Dean didn’t want him and had fled, but not before giving Castiel his own way out. 

He turns back to the house and starts packing.

*****

Dean stumbles into Bobby’s front door five days later covered in cuts and bruises, and dreading having to face down a lovesick ex-angel. It didn’t help matters any, that every time he shut his eyes for a week, all he saw was Cas leaning forward to kiss him. Bobby greets Sam with a fond hello; and then motions for the younger Winchester to vacate the area. Sam raises an eyebrow but slinks out of the room. 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asks; trying for nonchalant as he drops his bags. 

“Hell if I know,” Bobby answers. “He blew out of here the same day you left, on that bike, and all he left behind was this.” Bobby shoves a shoe box across the table at him with a glare and a snort. 

Dean cracks it open, and stares at the contents with a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. “I don’t know what you did boy,” Bobby mutters, “but you’re going to have a hell of a time undoing it now.”

The box only has two things in it; a carefully folded sheet of paper, and Cas’ now crushed cell phone. Dean opens the paper up with trembling hands and reads: 

_I can take a hint. Goodbye Dean._

“How are we supposed to contact him?” Dean stammers.

“You’re not, idjit,” Bobby answers, before he steps out of the room, and leaves Dean with his scrambled thoughts. 

*****

“Dean,” Sam complains from the passenger seat. “It’s time to go back to Bobby’s. We’ve been looking for three months and we haven’t found a trace of him. If Cas wanted us to know where he is, he would tell us.”

“I can’t just leave him out here all by himself Sam,” Dean argues. “What if he’s hurt? What if something bad’s happened to him? He’s my….”

“He’s your what Dean?” Sam comments, “Your friend? Your responsibility? Someone you love? If you could have figured out what he was three months ago instead of being a dick we wouldn’t be out here right now.”

“Shut up bitch,” Dean demands and for once Sam listens. He shakes his head while he stares out the window for a long time watching the trees go by. 

The silence finally gets the best of him and Sam mutters, “He was my friend too Dean. I can’t believe you hurt him this bad.”

``Damn it Sammy,” Dean snarls; jerking the car over to the side of the road, and turning on his brother as soon as they have slid to a stop. “He told me he loved me. He said he dreams about me. He tried to kiss me. What the hell am I supposed to do about that? He’s confused and saying all this shit that just can’t happen. I put that fucking bike together trying to say I was sorry and then he takes off on it. Tell me what I’m supposed to do Sam.”

“What were going to tell him if we found him Dean?” Sam asks. “Do you even know?”

Dean opens his mouth to answer but nothing really comes out, and he ends up slouching back into the driver’s seat and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You still haven’t figured out what’s going on between you two have you?” Sam presses. “You still just want to pretend that it’s gratitude and hero worship when really the guy is just dumb enough to fucking love you Dean. What’s so wrong about that?”

“He’s a guy!” Dean yells.

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” Sam answers and when his brother shoots him a wide eyed look Sam adds, “Seriously? You come home from bars smelling like aftershave that you don’t wear, off and on my whole life and you think I don’t notice?” 

“You never said anything,” Dean mutters. 

“It never mattered to me who you slept with Dean,” Sam shrugs “But Cas matters; he’s like the most loyal person on the planet, and you run from him like he’s going to burn you or something. I don’t get it.”

“He deserves better than me.” Dean responds picking at his shirt and clenching his teeth. “He was an angel for fuck’s sake. I tortured people in Hell Sam. We shouldn’t even exist on the same plain and he says he loves me. How wrong is that?”

“Do you love him?” Sam presses; seeing the first crack in his brother’s well crafted defense shield. 

“I don’t even know how to love someone like that Sam,” Dean answers with a shake of his head and sad eyes. “I don’t want to never see him again, and that’s all I know right now.”

“You better figure it out Dean,” Sam warns and they drive towards Bobby’s in silence. 

*****

 

_Dean,_

_I’m not sure what compels me to write you; but the need is there never the less. If you’re worried you should know that I’m doing well. I’ve been hunting on my own for two months now, and it’s becoming less tedious every time I survive. I’ve been missing you a great deal. Perhaps that saying is true and absence does make the heart grow fonder. I still think about you all the time. Being on the road so much hasn’t really cleared my head in the way that I expected it to. I had thought a few months away, and I would be able to come home and be a part of the team again. That I could shake off this oppressive need that I have to be with you and we could look back on our last night and laugh. But nothing’s changed for me. When I close my eyes all I see is you, and I can’t pretend it’s not there anymore._

_So I’ve decided to stay away from you so that you can have kind of life you want without my feelings making you uncomfortable. Please tell Sam I shall miss him; he has been very good to me. I’ll keep you updated on my travels since I know that if you don’t have some kind of information on me you will continue to look for me until you do. Don’t try to find me Dean. You may not be able to give me what I need but I can do this for you. I can stay away._

_Cas._

Dean’s read it a hundred times. He’s gone through so many different feelings about it that he can’t decide how he feels now; angry, hurt, sad, guilty, desperate, scared. He turns it over in his head again and again, and never comes up with a clear answer or a plan to deal with it. 

Cas loves him; but he never wants to see him again. Dean thinks that is wrong on so many levels. But he can’t figure out why.

There was a pile of letters when they had gotten back to Bobby’s; Cas had been writing pretty much since he left. Sometimes it was just a note scrawled on the back of a napkin that said: _Werewolves in North Dakota._

Other times it was a paragraph saying: _Saw the Grand Canyon today; thought of you. I miss you very much right now._

They come in with no return addresses; sometimes just a post card with no writing and just the name of a city or state. Bobby keeps them until Dean and Sam come back from whatever hunt they happen to be on, and Dean grabs them up and slinks away to his room where he spends the whole night; no matter how tired he is, reading and rereading them until he has them memorized. He’s started keeping track of where Cas has been by organizing the postage dates with where they were mailed from. 

His friend is making a winding path across the Midwest slowly moving east. Dean doesn’t admit to checking the map every night before he goes to sleep; or to the giddy feeling of excitement he gets when they head back to Bobby’s, and he knows there are letters waiting for him. 

Then after one hunt four months into Cas being on his own the letters just stop. Dean doesn’t sleep for three days, and he and Sam get into a hellacious fight about whether or not to go look for him. Dean’s pretty sure he could get them to within a state or two by tracking his recent path. Sam won’t back down. 

“He asked you to leave him alone Dean;” Sam growls; his frustration clear on his face and in his body posture. “The least you can do is honor that request. Maybe he’s just finally starting to move on. That’s what you wanted him to do right?” 

“Of course it is,” Dean stammers. But there’s nothing but relief in his soul when a letter comes in the mail two days later. 

_Dean,_

_Djinn are tricky. I should have been more prepared. It hurt me in ways I can’t even describe. My body is weak and I’m so tired all the time; even weeks later the drag of exhaustion makes it hard for me to function and traveling is difficult. I made a mistake Dean and it cost me dearly. You warned me; I should have listened to you. If it hadn’t been for my sword I wouldn’t be here. He wanted to keep it as a trophy, and when he touched it he turned into dust._

_I want to hear your voice for real so badly right now. He showed me what I wanted to see and all of it was you. You loved me, and you wanted me, and it felt so real. Why can’t I have that? Why won’t you let me in?_

_It’s so hard for me to remember what’s real, and what was just a twisted dream right now. This pain in my heart hurts so much worse than the wounds on my body. I need someone to take care of me Dean and you’re not here. I don’t want to do this alone._

_Cas._

Dean wipes at the tears on his cheeks, and grips the paper so hard that it crinkles and rips a bit in his hands. “Cas,” he gasps. “Please come home. I’m so sorry. Why do you keep sending me shit like this when you won’t tell me where you are so I can come and get you?”

*****

The heat from the sun feels good as it seeps into his clothes. Cas shifted gears after his run in with the Djinn and back tracked west to the dry areas of Arizona and Texas. The warm wind on his face and the level landscapes making it easier to maneuver the motorcycle than in the hilly, twisted terrain he had been in during the attack. 

The monster had drained him for a week while he had hung oblivious; lost in his visions of Dean and the life he so desperately wants to have but is denied. Sometimes when Cas falls asleep he still remembers the feel of his head pillowed in Dean’s lap while the other man strokes his fingers through his hair over and over again. The first few days after the ordeal had ended, Cas would wake up vomiting as his body rebelled against the truth that all of those memories he cherished so much were never real in the first place. 

Part of him had wanted to die. Cas has gotten good at what Dean calls the Family Business. He’s been killing vampires, werewolves, demons, the occasional troll, and quite a few other sundry mythical creatures while he’s been traveling; but the road is lonely. It’s been over two months since Cas has checked in on Bobby and he’s thinking it’s time to go home for a visit; even if it only last a few days. 

They’ve worked out a system where Bobby sends the boys out while Cas sneaks in. Bobby lets him clean up, fixes his bike, and feeds him well, before letting Cas crash on the couch. The older man never says anything about the fact that he always finds him in Dean’s room the next morning. The badgering and affectionate cuffs on the back of his neck are so heartwarming that they rejuvenate Cas for another run on the roads. 

He pulls over at the next place he can find for gas and some kind of sustenance. Cas has never been picky about what he eats. He tugs out the prepaid cell phone he purchased after he came to the realization that pay phones no longer exist. Bobby’s number being the only one he has saved. 

It rings several times which is nothing really new. Bobby could be out or just not be near the phone. Cas never leaves a message; he’ll just call back again later if it’s not picked up before the voicemail clicks on. He’s actually moving the phone to terminate the call when a voice says: “Singer Salvage Yard,” on the other end.

It’s not Bobby’s voice and Cas feels himself go totally numb. “Dean?” he whispers. He hasn’t heard Dean’s voice in over five months unless it’s been in his dreams or a djinn induced altered reality. Something inside him twists and hurts. 

“Cas?” Dean blurts, “Cas is that you?” 

He huffs out a breath instead of answering; some kind of shaky noise that he knows the other man must have heard because Dean is suddenly saying: “Oh God! Cas, Cas are you alright? I was worried and you’re not saying much in your letters right now. Are you there? Oh shit! Cas, please don’t hang up. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me. You called for Bobby. Just hang on; I’ll go get him for you but please, please don’t hang up.”

There’s a clatter and the sound of feet stomping away. Cas just holds the line because he’s too stunned to do anything else. Some long moments later there’s shuffling and Bobby’s gruff voice saying, “I told that idjit not to pick up my damn phone.” 

“Bobby,” Cas whispers feeling raw and torn open. 

“You need to come in for a while son?” Bobby says for him. “Give me a date and I’ll make sure they’re gone.”

“But they know now.” Cas stammers.

“Don’t matter,” Bobby argues. “This is your home too, and you got as much right to be here as they do. Head on this way Cas. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I’ll be there on the twelfth,” Cas manages to get out; pressing his hand to his face as his head starts to pound. 

“I’ll see you then and I’ll be alone,” Bobby answers before bellowing: “No, I will NOT tell him something for you Dean! You had your damn chance and you have to live with messing it all up now. You want him to know something you figure out a way to tell him yourself.”

The line goes dead, and Cas collapses beside the bike, on the ground, as he tries to force in some deep breaths. There’s a giddy edge of anxiety coursing through him as he drags out his pen and starts to scribble. 

_Dean,_

_I miss your voice. I miss everything and some of it’s not even fair to you anymore, because some of what I miss wasn’t ever real to begin with. I remember the way your hands feel on my skin, and that’s impossible because you’ve never really touched me like that. It’s hard to keep reality separated. In a lot of ways I liked the illusion so much better. So you know now that Bobby’s been covering for me. I come by every two months or so. Don’t be too hard on him, please. He’s just trying to help me and I didn’t want him to tell you. I thought you would be angry._

_I saw a meteor shower last night. All these particles shooting through the sky so quickly; it was beautiful and it made me wonder if some of the trails belonged to angels that used to be my brothers. They might have been. I never had the kind of connection to them that you do to Sam; but I miss them now. I’ve never been alone before now. I’ve seen so many things out here in the world Dean, and they’ve been horrible, and beautiful, and magnificent. But they don’t compare with what your soul used to look like back when I could still see it. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you Dean. I know I’m not much; I’m only human now. But I love you still even after all this time apart. I’m so sorry._

_Cas._

He puts the stamp on and slips it into the mail before he can change his mind. It doesn’t really matter what he writes anyway; it’s not like Dean can answer. 

Except that it turns out Dean’s figured out a way. 

When Cas rolls into Bobby’s on the twelfth as promised the Impala is gone and Bobby’s home alone. He greets Cas with a cup of coffee and stack of sealed envelopes. They all just have his name on the front and no other identifying information. 

“Looks like someone really wants to talk to you,” Bobby states before handing Cas one final letter and adding, “This one is from Sam.”

Cas is speechless. Bobby points him toward the shower and says, “Get cleaned up. They’ll still be here when you’re done and after you’ve had some real food.”

He takes the longest shower of his life while he tries to figure out if he wants to open those letters. It’s one thing to write to Dean when he’s just a concept and not really accessible. It’s another thing entirely to have him write back. Cas slips on the last of his clean clothing and eats more of Bobby’s cooking than any human should be able to ingest. He’s running low on cash and eating comes secondary to being able to put gas in the motorcycle. 

Cas really needs to take a break. 

In the end he waits until Bobby goes off to bed that night to open the first of the letters; and though he calls himself a coward he starts with Sam’s first. 

_Cas,_

_My brother is giant dick. I miss you and I think you need to come home._

_Sam_

He laughs for the first time in what feels like forever; laughs until tears come to his eyes and fall down his cheeks. He gets himself under control before scrawling on a blank sheet of paper.

_Sam,_

_I miss you too. But I’m not commenting on the size of your brother’s dick._

_Cas_

He folds it up and sets it to the side to give to Bobby so he can pass it on later. Then he carefully opens every single envelope that has to be from Dean, and organizes them by their dates before he takes a deep breath and starts reading. 

_Cas,_

_You’re a sneaky bastard with that cell phone thing. I didn’t believe Bobby when he said you never gave him your number, but I’ve been bugging him for a week now so I figure you probably didn’t. Smart Cas, really smart. You thought of everything when you disappeared._

_I’m so pissed off at you. I never meant for you to just pack up and leave like that. I was just trying to say I was sorry for hurting your feelings, and you liked that fucking bike so much I thought it would make you happy. I’m an idiot; I get it. Looking back I can totally see how you might think I was telling you to go._

_So maybe I’m mad at myself really._

_Look, I don’t know what to say here. I’m not good with words and shit, and I’m still not sure I can ever be what you want me to be. But I care about you Cas; you’re my friend. You’re my best friend and you’re like family. You shouldn’t be out there on your own without one of us to watch your back. What if something happens to you? What if we don’t find out soon enough and we don’t get there in time?_

_Jesus, Sam’s right; I am a mother hen._

_I don’t know if this is going to make any sense. It’s taken me all night to write this and I still don’t know what I’m trying to tell you. Maybe that’s the whole problem with us. You seem to know exactly what your saying all the time and I never have a clue what’s happening until it all blows up in my face._

_I don’t know Cas. I just miss you. I’m sorry._

_Dean_

The letters are unorganized and often cryptic. Dean will write something and then scribble it all out so darkly that Cas can’t tell what he was trying to say no matter how hard he looks. A lot of it is just ramblings from his trips with Sam. Things like: 

_He snores so fucking loud. How the hell do I manage to sleep through that shit?_

_Got shot in the shoulder today; it hurts like a bitch. Maybe I’m getting too slow for this crap. Some mornings when I wake up everything on me hurts like I got hit with a car in my sleep. I’m only thirty two; it’s not supposed to be like that._

_If you ever make it to Illinois we found the best fucking pie in the world in this place that looks like the ass end of a trash truck. I don’t know what they put in it and I really don’t care._

Sometimes there are lessons written out in explicit detail:

_The thing you have to remember about hunting is that you can’t really trust anyone. Like I told you before; humans lie when they want something. So when you’re going out to get information you need to assume that a lot of what they are going to tell you about a case is a lie. I know it probably doesn’t make any sense to you Cas, but trust me this is just how it is. You can’t just go around asking for what you want because it freaks people out. So just watch your back okay. Watch the people you’re talking to and if they look up and to the left they’re probably lying. If they have to think to long about something simple then they’re lying. Or if they answer stuff too easily or too quickly they’re lying about that too. The people we talk to are usually traumatized so they should be kind of scattered._

The final letter is dated on the eleventh which tells Cas that Dean stalled as long as he could before Bobby finally just threw him out so Cas could have his turn. 

_Cas,_

_We’re leaving soon but I just wanted to tell you one more thing. You’ve been really honest with me in all your letters and you haven’t pulled any punches, so I want to try to be that way for you too._

_I’m scared you’re going to read all the crap I wrote to you and never write me again. I don’t want you to stop. The things you say to me make me ache inside, and I want to be sitting there with you right now so bad you have no idea. I know I messed us all up Cas. I’m so sorry. I still don’t know what’s going on between us but I know I think about you all the time. I know your letters are the thing I look forward to the most in my life right now. I know I miss you._

_I don’t know what it means Cas but every time I shut my eyes I see you leaning in like your going to kiss me again; and I’m going to hate myself for giving you this to read, but I figure I owe it to you after all this, so I’m just going to admit that I wish you could. I think I want to kiss you Cas. I don’t know what that means._

_I’m a mess you know? I mean you should really try and find someone better for you because I’m sure I’m not good enough. I don’t know how to love you the way you want me too; and it scares the hell out of me that I might let you down and fuck it all up and hurt you again after I’ve already hurt you so much._

_You shouldn’t want me Cas. Not like this. I’m not worth it._

_I haven’t been with anyone since you kissed me. I don’t know why I think that’s important for you to know but I want to tell you that. It doesn’t feel right and I don’t want anyone else touching me._

_What are we doing here Cas? I need you to help me._

_Dean_

 

It’s bittersweet; the pressure that grows in his chest while he reads the letter over and over. Dean feels something for him; something he can’t put a name to. It’s more than Cas had ever hoped for, and it makes him think that maybe he might actually be able to come home and be a part of this family again. Dean misses him. Dean’s choosing to be loyal to him with no expectation of anything but more distance. 

Cas rips out some paper and scrawls 

_Dean,_

_I haven’t been with anyone either. Please keep writing._

_Cas_

He seals it up and puts it on top of the one for Sam with a smile and shaking hands. When Cas sleeps that night he dreams of drinking warm beer while leaning against the side of the Impala; laughing while Dean tells some horrible story about their last hunt, and Sam snorts and rolls his eyes. He dreams of Dean smiling at him and wrapping a loose arm over his shoulders in a companionable hug. 

When he wakes he’s relieved because he knows that actually happened. He feels stronger; like he’s healing. After a few more days of rest he packs up to go; handing Bobby a small stack of letters on his way out the door. 

The older hunter shakes his head before blurting, “I ain’t the fucking postal service.”

“What would you suggest then?” Cas asks with a smile. He’s learning when Bobby is actually upset and when he’s just playing. 

“You have a phone kiddo,” Bobby says pointedly. “You should try using it sometime. What you hear might just surprise you.”

“I’m not ready for that,” Cas answers with a shake of his head as he straps on his goggles and starts the motorcycle. “I’ll see you in a few months,” he offers before he drives away and almost misses Bobby muttering, “Bet I’ll see you way before then kid.”

*****

It turns out that Bobby is right. 

Cas can’t stay away for too long from the draw of letters waiting for him from Dean. With nowhere to send them Dean replies to Cas’ letters and just leaves them at Bobby’s house for Cas to show up and collect them. 

To his shame he’s gone from stopping in once every few months to once a month, and the urge to stay close enough to come in more frequently is getting harder to ignore. Cas finds himself writing more; sometimes nightly when he stops to rest. Just telling Dean about his day, the weather, something funny that happened; sometimes he writes about the time before he fell:

_When I was brought back and left you to return to Heaven, I had all these expectations of what I could accomplish; of how things were going to go. I should have known better. I should have paid more attention and learned from you and Sam that things rarely, if ever, go the way you plan them to go._

_They didn’t want change. They didn’t want to look at their own mistakes and poor judgments and it drove me mad. I would retreat from the infighting and close my eyes until I could feel the bond I had with you. There’s a part of my grace inside you from when I pulled you from Hell. You’ve been my center for longer than I have ever admitted to you. Sometimes I think that even now if I held my sword as tightly as I can and think of you that it might somehow bring me to your side. I’ve never tested the theory. I’m concerned I might end up somewhere totally not where you are and only have to say, “I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.”_

More and more frequently he finds himself trying to make Dean laugh. 

Dean’s hand written notes were often just commentary of his trips with Sam or a written review of a movie he had seen. Sometimes there were directions to good restaurants near where his recent letters had been coming from. Occasionally Dean would write something heartfelt like:

_I’m sitting on the Impala watching the stars tonight. Sam has a date with an actual girl. I swear it’s a miracle. I wonder sometimes Cas, if you’re close enough to me right now that you might be leaning back and staring at the same stars I’m seeing; like if you’re two towns over and close enough for me to drive to and I just don’t know it. It drives me crazy. I hope you are. I hope that sometimes we’re doing the same things even though we’re not actually doing them together. It makes me feel like you’re not so far away._

Cas had been gone for nine and a half months when Dean left him what he will always just call The Letter. There was a big note on the front begging him to read it after he left Bobby’s house, and since Dean had never asked that before Cas didn’t hesitate to agree. 

He waited until he pulled into the motel for the night and finally gave into the anticipation; ripping open the envelope. 

_Cas,_

_I had a dream about you last night. Well okay so maybe it wasn’t really about you but you were in it. I don’t know why I feel like I need to tell you this because it’s embarrassing as hell, but it’s not like I have to look you in the face and do it. Anyway, I was having one of those dreams where you’re giving a big important presentation and you look down and realize that you’re naked._

_Have you had a dream like that?_

_So I’m all flailing and freaking out, and when I look back up it’s just you and me and you tell me it’s okay, and then you just reach out and touch me, like sliding your hand over my chest, and I just sort of let you, and I don’t really know why but you said you would take care of me and it felt, I don’t know, nice I guess. You kept coming closer to me and brushing your hands all over me, and then you were just pressed right up against me, and I realized all of a sudden that you were naked too and then you kissed me._

_And then I woke up and some things had already, well you know….happened._

_Christ! Why am I writing you this? It’s like the worst sort of porny letter in the history of mankind. What the fuck is wrong with me?_

_Dean_

He’s right; it probably is the worst semi pornographic letter ever; but it’s enough to have Cas panting and scrambling through his bag for the cell phone that he knows has to be in there somewhere, if he can just get his hands on it. He dials the number from memory and grits his teeth while the phone rings several times before Dean answers with a muttered, “Hello?”

“Dean,” he breathes out as he feels some of the tension slide out of his body. The response from the other end doesn’t sound nearly as relaxing. 

There’s a kind of thrashing sound and Dean gasps, “Cas? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you?”

“I’m uninjured Dean.” Cas assures him while he closes his eyes and focuses on Dean’s uneven breathing and his presence on the other end of the line. 

There’s a pause and Dean groans, “Oh fuck you read it didn’t you? Never mind don’t answer that. I’m so fucked up.”

“Dean,” Cas says again, because there are so many words backed up in his throat and none of them are coming out right now. 

“I’m here.” Dean answers quickly. “Just don’t hang up on me okay?” 

“I called you remember,” Cas teases hesitantly and is relieved when he hears his friend laugh for the first time in almost a year. 

“How are you?” Dean asks. 

“I’m okay.” Cas replies “It’s getting colder. I’m going to have to find warmer ground soon. Riding a bike in the snow is not fun.”

“You could come home?” Dean blurts; and then after a pause where Cas bites his lip and clenches his hands Dean says, “That wasn’t the best thing for me to say. I’m thinking I should probably avoid begging you to come home or trying to get you to tell me where you are for now, right? I don’t want to scare you off.”

“Why did you write me that letter Dean?” Cas asks as blunt as he has always been. 

“Shit Cas,” Dean grumbles and he can tell the other man is switching ears by the noises the phone is making. “I don’t know why.”

“Bull shit,” Cas spits. “Talk to me Dean. I need something from you for this to be anything more than just a pathetic joke.”

“Cas,” Dean pleads, “I can’t.”

“Fine,” Cas answers flatly. “I understand.” But he doesn’t; he has no clue why this is so hard. 

Dean must sense something because as Cas is pulling the phone away from his ear to disconnect it Dean yells, “Don’t hang up on me!” 

“What do you want?” Cas snarls; up and pacing now as he tries to work off some of the energy he’s feeling. 

“You,” Dean answers with a voice so low and strained Cas thinks he sounds like he’s being choked. “I think I want you.”

There are moments of silence where they just breathe in unison and Cas finally mutters, “You need to be sure Dean.”

“I know,” Dean answers. “Just give me a little more time please. I know I don’t deserve it.”

“You really don’t,” Cas accuses; and Dean whispers sadly, “I know.”

“I love you,” Cas says feeling like a weight on his chest is released at just being able to finally give that feeling voice so clearly. 

He hangs up before Dean has a chance to respond. 

*****

The letters change after their phone call. Dean never hits redial and for that Cas is grateful. It shows a level of respect for his personal boundaries that he didn’t really think Dean was capable of. Maybe they have both grown while they’ve been apart. 

Now instead of random thoughts on the highway from Dean, Cas gets things like:

_Saw these two guys kissing in one of those prissy ass coffee shops that Sam loves so much. They looked really comfortable together and I wished it was us._

_I don’t want to sleep alone anymore._

_Sam walked in and caught me watching gay porn. He made fun of me for like three days until I started asking him if he was scared I was going to find those movies he made in college. Then he shut up, so now I’m starting to wonder if there are actual movies._

_I jacked off last night thinking about you fucking me. It’s weird because I’ve slept with guys before but I don’t bottom. I would for you though. Hell, if it felt half as good as it felt in my head I’d do it for you every night. I guess that means I really trust you Cas._

It’s confusing. Cas doesn’t know what to respond to the sudden more sexual commentary. At first he tries to ignore it, but the less he comments on it the more explicit Dean gets and Cas starts to wonder if he is looking for some kind of reaction. Still though Cas isn’t sure how to tell Dean that he prefers the movie reviews to these letters that leave him aching and frustrated even after orgasm. After all fantasies or no, he’s still just alone with his hand. 

Then there’s a note from Sam. 

_Cas,_

_I want you to know I talked to Dean. I don’t know exactly what he’s been writing you and I really don’t want the details, but I can tell you that I think you two sort of speak two different languages when it comes to romance._

_Don’t be too hard on him okay? He doesn’t know any better. Dean’s never been good at intimacy, and this whole writing thing you have going is really intimate. He’s trying to tell you something with all these weird notes that are probably totally inappropriate, but it’s the only language he knows how to use to express himself._

_So what I’m saying here is, I asked him to tone it down and try and focus on what he really needs you to know, but I need you to be willing to read between the lines some too. Because I’m pretty sure the message isn’t going to come through clearly._

_Sam_

After that Dean writes him a one sentence note. After he reads it Cas finally gets the message. 

_Cas,_

_I think I’m falling in love with you._

_Dean_

But falling in love isn’t the same as being in love and Cas keeps his eyes on the road. 

*****

Twelve months after he left Bobby Singer’s, Cas wades his way into a sewer system in Wyoming after a skin walker. He gets lost for two days, dislocates his shoulder, and is horribly wounded in the fight. 

Cas wins; the monster wasn’t prepared for him to have a sword. By the time he gets back to the motel he’s been staying at, the long gash on his side is already looking infected. He tries to treat it himself for a few days with regular old medicine and then some herbal remedies, but it becomes clear very quickly that Cas is going to need some help to get this totally under control. 

He calls home. 

“Bobby,” he gasps into the phone. “I’m hurt.”

“Where are you son?” Bobby demands, “We’ll be right there.”

“No,” Cas refuses he doesn’t want Dean to see him like this; like he can’t take care of himself. “I can get to your place by tomorrow night just please make them leave.”

“Cas,” Bobby argues for the first time. “I think you boys need to talk.” 

“Not now.” Cas begs. “I can’t.”

“Just come on home son.” Bobby sighs. “I’ll make sure everything’s ready.”

Cas gets on the bike as soon as he hangs up the phone. 

By the time Cas gets to Bobby’s he’s feverish and aching all over. He stumbles in the front door and groans out a pathetic, “Hello?”

The man that comes around the corner isn’t the man he expected to see. 

“Cas?” Dean blurts and rushes toward him in alarm. 

It’s a testament to how badly injured Cas is that he reaches out greedily for Dean’s embrace, and is already crying when unconsciousness claims him. 

There’s humming coming from the kitchen when he wakes up. Cas feels better; his fever’s gone, and when he lifts up the sheet draped over him he sees the wound on his side is dry, clean, and stitched neatly. 

“There are these things Cas,” Dean says when he walks back into the room with a cup of coffee. “They’re called hospitals. You should have gone to one.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” Cas answers and it’s then he realizes his throat hurts. Dean points to the table and he notices then the cup of what smells like tea in front of him. “How long?” he asks.

“Two days,” Dean says with a shrug. “I know I talked a lot about getting into your pants, but I was sort of hoping you would be awake for it. By the way; you’re way too thin.”

Cas blushes; of course Dean had to undress him. But it doesn’t answer why he’s the one that’s here and not Bobby. “Why are you here?”

Dean turns the coffee cup around in his hands several times before sighing and answering, “We need to talk. I asked Bobby to let me stay and for him to go with Sam, so we could have some privacy and hopefully work this out for good. I don’t want you going back out there without me.”

“I need to shower,” Cas blurts, because it’s true and because it will give him some time to get his thoughts together. 

Dean smiles and nods before saying, “I figured you might want to. I put your clothes upstairs. Come find me in the kitchen when you’re done? I’m cleaning.” 

Cas nods dumbly and is pleased to note that Dean must have washed all of his clothes while he was knocked out. He spends a long time under the warm spray of the water; letting it ease his sore muscles. When he pulls back the curtain there’s some toast and a couple of Ibuprofen on the bathroom counter next to a glass of water. He chuckles at Dean’s maternal instinct but he takes the pills and eats the food. 

After that there’s nothing left to do but go down and face the music. 

He finds Dean in the kitchen as promised, but the hunter isn’t washing dishes as Cas suspected. 

Dean’s polishing Cas’ sword; the sword that no one has ever touched and survived. Most humans feel an aversion to even being too close to it, and there is Dean, sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing a cloth along it like he’s been taking care of it for years. 

Cas leans against the counter with wide eyes and stammers, “How are you doing that?”

“Well it’s pretty easy,” Dean teases. “You rub some of this goo on her, and then after that you work it back off and she gets all shiny. It’s sort of like detailing a car actually; I think it’s relaxing. You should take better care of her.”

“I don’t mean how you polish her,” Cas snaps. “I mean how are you touching her?” 

Dean meets his gaze as he rubs the cloth down the hilt one final time before setting the sword carefully against the wall. “Here’s the thing Cas,” he says as he rises up out of his seat and starts to walk across the room toward Cas slowly. “You wrote me once and told me that I had a piece of your grace in me. I figured that if I had some of your grace and your sword was made from your grace, then I ought to be able to touch her with no problem because we sort of already know each other.”

Dean’s gate takes him well into Cas’ personal space before he adds, “You remember you wrote you thought you could hold her tight and she might take you to where ever I was?” At Cas’ nod Dean continues, “I think you’re probably right but you’re never going to have to find out.”

“Why is that?” Cas stammers; suddenly distracted by the way Dean’s lips are moving and the feel of his body heat pressing him up against the counter. 

“Because I’m always going to be right beside you, everyday, forever; so you’ll never need to go looking for me.” Dean breathes out against his skin, and Cas twitches with the urge to reach out and kiss him again; wanting to complete a circuit that’s been building for a year. 

Dean dips in close and takes matters into his own hands. Cas groans against his mouth and is amazed when Dean’s lips part easily and slide against his with a gentleness he didn’t think Dean possessed. It’s not like the last time when Cas was desperate and angry and Dean’s mouth was a hard line of denial. This time it’s hot, and welcoming, and Dean gentles his frantic clinging with soothing strokes of his hands across his face and down his back. 

When they break apart panting Dean whispers, “I love you Cas. Say you’ll stay with me.” And Cas nods choking on a sob before he swallows and murmurs, “Yes, yes, I love you too.”

*****

Cas thought he understood love before those few days where he finally got to be alone with Dean. He was wrong. Those written words, however heartfelt they had been, were nothing compared to Dean’s gentle touches and careful kisses; the feel of falling asleep in bed with this man that Cas loves so much. 

He thought he understood devotion after a year of pining for his lover, but then Dean whispers to him in the darkness, “Tell me what you saw when the djinn had you.” 

“Why?” Cas gasps because those false moments are still so painful. 

“So I can make everything you saw come true,” Dean answers, as he strokes work-roughened hands down Cas’ still healing side. 

He didn’t realize you could fall in love twice with the same person. But this Dean, this man who holds his hand, and kisses his cheek, and pinches his ass every chance he gets is someone Cas has only ever glimpsed before. This is Dean in love and open, trusting in a way that Cas thinks he may never have allowed himself to be before. 

“You’re different,” Cas comments as he’s putting on his goggles to take Dean for a ride on the back of his bike. 

“I know,” Dean answers with a blush on his cheeks. At Cas’ assessing look he adds with a shrug, “You’ve seen everything. You saw me in Hell, and at the end of the world, and after I lost everything. You never turned your back on me then so I can trust you with this now. It took me a while Cas but I got it. You need this from me and I can give it to you; just you.” 

He guns the engine as they take off; enjoying the way Dean grips his hips and laughs as they rip onto the road. 

By the time Bobby and Sam come back Dean’s already made a point to recreate a third of what Cas had seen while he was captured. His favorite is still having his head in Dean’s lap while Dean strokes his hair. Cas had expected things to be different when they came home; had thought Dean would retreat again behind that gruff exterior in the presence of his father figure and younger sibling. Instead he greets them with a fond, “Hey guys.” And goes right back to snuggling against Cas’ chest. 

Cas thought he understood family; but then Sam asked to learn how to ride his bike and started taking it out on jobs so that Cas and Dean could be alone together in the Impala. 

“She’s your baby,” Sam shrugs when Cas questions him about it. “Someone should ride her. Besides, this way I get to listen to my own music.”

Cas had never really understood passion; never been touched in a way that induced it until he came home to Dean. But over the course of the months following their reconnecting, Dean teaches him the joys of giving and taking and letting everything go while you trust your partner to take care of you. Cas learns the dance of every peak, and curve, and dip of Dean’s body and takes immense pleasure in his lover doing the same. 

He comes to understand joy in a way he never thought possible, and with every answered ‘I love you,’ he knows that Dean has done the same.


End file.
